


no postcode envy

by montecarlos, orphan_account



Category: Formula 1 RPF, GP2 Series RPF
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:29:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8187865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlos/pseuds/montecarlos, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Milton Keynes is made of roundabouts and they ricochet through them all.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mizzmd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizzmd/gifts).



> Thank you to my lovely, lovely wife and co-author Valentineskid. And to MissEmmeDi, who read through a late phase of this and managed to convince me to actually finish it. <333
> 
> This is set in the winter just after Mitch's GP3 win. 
> 
> It is a very silly story about boys and feelings.

Dany fucking  _ hates  _ social media. He’s not really an internet guy in the first place but especially the ludicrous vanity parade of Instagram is boring to him - such total bullshit one-up-manship. No one posts anything on that fucking site except to rub it in someone else’s face.

He’s got his feet stuffed under a Red Bull branded blanket, the flat weirdly chilly despite the fact he’s bundled up in a hoodie on top of his pyjamas. In theory he and Alex Lynn are watching the football, because that’s the sort of thing men do together and it’s an Italian team vs a British one so they could have some sort of enthusiastic rivalry about it - Mitch and Carlos had suggested it as something for them to do.

Mitch and Carlos are also the reason why neither of them is paying any attention whatsoever to the game - which could be 42-0 and seven hours into extra time for all Dany knows. It’s turned out they weren’t just setting Dany and Alex up for a weird man date but in fact facilitating Carlos and Mitch going on an actual date between men. 

“What the fuck, Mitch? He’s in your lap.” He’s pretty sure Lynn has forgotten he’s even here, although they have their feet under the same blanket. Alex has been staring at his phone with an increasingly scandalised expression for about 40 minutes, periodically firing off what look like fairly aggressive messages to, Dany assumes, Mitch. 

Lynn is not wrong. About Carlos being in Mitch’s lap, anyway - he definitely has some terrible ideas about several other things. Dany had found himself raising an eyebrow when both their Instagrams had made it clear they were eating somewhere fancy, noticed Alex looking equally concerned but who knew, maybe it was with some kind of mutual friend that neither he nor Alex had ever met despite knowing the pair of them for in excess of a decade, combined.

Then it had become clear they were in a club, with the messages moving to Snapchat. The most recent one showed them both from above, clearly taken by Mitch, his arm just about in shot, with Carlos sitting right up close to him, one leg nearly over Mitch’s. Dany shivers as the image expires, refuses to hit ‘replay’.

The movement jolts Alex enough to notice him, “It’s fucking freezing, isn’t it?”

Dany nods, refusing to comment on the fact they’re both blatantly looking at Snapchat, phones unlocked, beers abandoned on the table. Or that Carlos and Mitch’s shirts were half undone - clearly somewhere with a bit more heat. He drags the blanket up, forcing them slightly closer so that it covers both their legs, Alex slumping against him slightly as they repool it round their feet.

Their phones buzz simultaneously and neither of them makes the slightest pretense about not immediately going to unlock them, although Dany does one-hand it while reaching for his beer, a movement Alex mirrors almost instantly to looking at it.

It’s a much closer-up photo. Carlos has his eyes closed, long lashes stark against his skin, some stray hair falling into his face, mussed out of the style he’d gelled it into - Dany tries not to think about why, even though it’s fairly obvious. Mitch’s face is pressed against Carlos’, his head tilted to push his nose against Carlos’ ear, pressing his lips to the Spaniard’s cheekbone.

“Just fuck on camera why don’t you?” he alarms himself by speaking, gets a pained grunt from Alex in response.

“What are they doing?” Alex sounds brokenly resentful and Dany decides there’s probably no point pretending they’re not both annoyed about separate parts of the same thing.

“I guess they’re enjoying themselves. I don’t know why I thought…” he swallows, he’s never said this before, never said anything like it, “that Carlos was more - oh for fuck’s sake, I thought we had a thing.”

Lynn grunts again, “You too?”

Dany’s confused for a moment - “I thought you and Mitch? Not Carlos. But I gue-”

Alex cuts him off, “Oh god, no. No, I did mean Mitch. Sorry.”

They’re quiet for a minute, Dany fiddling with the blanket to tug it closer around him, slouching slightly closer to Alex in the process, feeling like he’s sinking into some sort of defeated sofa hole. 

“You thought me and Mitch were together?” Alex sounds a bit pathetic. Well, a lot pathetic - Dany can empathise.

“Err. Not together maybe. I don’t know, I just thought… that was the way it would go. Maybe.” He feels heartbroken on a fairly major level - if he’s honest with himself he’s been pining after Carlos for years and it had seemed maybe like, if he had a chance with anyone, that was it. 

Looking at his own skinny, pyjama-swathed body he can’t exactly blame Carlos for going with someone who looks like a Greek god and has a similar level of sexual experience, instead. Maybe Dany just waited too long, nervously edging closer where Mitch would just go in and take it. 

But Mitch had never seemed like a threat - everyone knew he and Lynn had their own slow dance towards something. Alex seems as upset at Dany feels, so clearly he’s not the only one who’d got caught up in it all. 

He feels Lynn shift against him, looking for warmth and Dany decides he’s had enough of feeling as frigid as he clearly is, stomps off towards his bedroom - “Let me get a duvet, this is ridiculous.”

He swears Nick has some sort of skill for turning the boiler off whenever he’s away - it was working perfectly normally earlier in the week and now the flat’s been getting colder and colder ever since the Kiwi left. Bundling up his duvet - mercifully, free of either team branding or anything massively incriminating-looking - he pads back into the lounge and throws it reasonably unceremoniously over the settee and Alex.

Alex looks grateful for the warmth, hugs it to himself slightly and then looks despairing when both their phones buzz again as Dany flops down under the cover.

“I’m not looking. I don’t want to know.” Lynn looks totally determined, like saying it out loud will help.

“I’d rather just ...rip it off.” Dany unlocks his phone and feels Alex settle up against him, leaning his head on Dany’s shoulder so he’ll definitely be able to see his phone screen anyway.

It’s a little blurry. Unsurprisingly, since clearly Mitch had his eyes closed when he look it. It looks as though Carlos is straddling Mitch’s lap, kneeling above him with his hair flopping forward over most of his face. Mitch has his face tilted upwards to him, mouth very slightly open and Carlos’ hands on his jaw, fingers splayed on his cheekbones as they’re not-quite-kissing, mouths next to each other, sharing breath.

Dany hisses - it’s romantic and lust-fuelled and everything he wants with Carlos. To have the other boy crawl into his lap like that, kiss him with that fervour.

“Why,” Alex sounds emotionally dead, “are they sending us this?”

Dany shakes his head, genuinely not knowing. He suspects they’re sending them to everyone but he doesn’t want to necessarily say that to Alex. He sounds deadpan even to himself when he speaks, “Maybe they think we’re going to reciprocate.”

He feels Alex turn to look at him, like he’s seriously considering it as an option. Maybe they should? Maybe that was Carlos and Mitch’s intention all along, trying to set him and Alex up whilst they’re off making out with each other.

“I don’t…” Alex trails off, sounding uncharacteristically uncertain. “Have you ever kissed anyone?”

“Some girls.” Dany winces slightly, involuntarily, cursing himself for how awkward he is about all of this. “Well, one girl. Twice.”

“More than me.” Alex sounds almost sulky, which Dany figures he sort of has a right to - the few months of age Lynn has on him have caused some serious transformation into looking like an adult to take place, which Dany is desperately jealous of. He can’t wait to stop looking like a gangly child, assuming he ever will.

He shifts a bit, uncomfortable and still cold everywhere he isn’t under the duvet, trying not to think about Carlos kissing Mitch, them grinding together with warm hands and hot lips on each other while him and Alex huddle together awkwardly. “Sorry it’s so cold, I swear Nick takes the key to the boiler with him somehow.”

“It’s ok.” Alex wriggles again, their legs slightly entangling and Dany wonders if they’re both desperate enough to actually go there. He has to admit he likes the contact, pathetically lonely now the prospect of spooning with Carlos is presumably off the cards, maybe forever. 

They’d been doing it a lot lately, cuddling and lying close to each other, Dany stroking Carlos’ hair. He’d thought it was a sign they might finally go there but maybe it was just Carlos writing him off as a friend, in retrospect. He’ll miss the warm weight of Carlos in his arms, Dany’s knees tucked into Carlos’ thighs as the Spaniard leant his weight back against his chest. 

He sighs. “Do you want to?”

He’s glad Alex doesn’t ask him what. He wishes he was wearing something slightly better than ‘nearly everything warm he owns’ but he hadn’t really been planning on a seduction, tonight - not that his wardrobe runs to a huge number of sexy outfits. Or well, any sexy outfits. There’s a limit to what he can do given they have to go on his body.

“Uhm. Yeah? Sure.” Alex sounds slightly confused by himself, “I mean. Yes - yes, why not?”

Dany can think of about 15 reasons without trying too hard but chooses not to vocalise them, instead shifting so he’s leaning on one side, facing Alex. They stare at each other for a long half-second, then both look away rapidly and Dany tries not to huff in annoyance at himself before putting a hand out to Alex’s shoulder to steady himself, closing his eyes and leaning in.

Their lips meet awkwardly, Dany’s aim not very precise. And then Alex moves, jolting their noses together and Dany has to pull back for a second as pain darts across his face.

“Shit, sorry - fuck.” Dany tries to make a shushing noise, ignore the pain on the bridge of his nose and leans back in, this time with his hand on Alex’s jaw to try and prevent a repeat impact. Expert he might not be but he’s fairly sure any cartilage injuries are a bad outcome from a kiss.

Alex whimpers slightly - from nerves, Dany’s confident, rather than any enjoyment. They just about manage to mouth at each other without anything terrible happening for a few seconds and he tries to relax into it a bit, tries to imagine he has Mitch’s confidence.

He sticks his tongue out slightly, which feels ridiculous, runs it along Alex’s lower lip. It feels surprisingly nice, for something that seems totally unnatural and Alex responds with his own tongue, which feels even nicer. He’s not per se turned on by it, although he’d undeniably got a bit worked up by Mitch and Carlos’ display and it feels good to touch someone, be touched by someone else.

Almost on cue, their phones buzz and Dany fumbles for his, sends it skidding down the duvet to the floor, feels Alex do something similar and grabs for the other man’s jumper, pulling them closer together with force that slightly surprises him, unbalancing them a bit. 

He tries to calm down, ignore the pings of  messages in the background like the world’s shittiest, bleepiest fireworks display. Alex sighs against his mouth, grabs at Dany’s hoodie and mashes their mouths together harder, Dany desperately trying to keep his teeth out of the way and semi-succeeding.

He shifts his body around, hooking a leg over Alex to drag them closer together - everything feels awkward and off-kilter and nothing like he’d been hoping his first kiss with a boy would be like but it’s definitely not totally unpleasant. Alex is built nothing like Carlos but he’s certainly  _ hot,  _ something Dany can’t really hope for about himself, although he knows he’s at least physically fit. 

Alex moves round closer to him, although they’re now awkwardly smashed against the sofa and suddenly they’re very much flush up against each other and fuck, that actually does feel good - more like when he’s cuddled with Carlos. Alex’s tongue pushes into his mouth and Dany’s surprised by the genuinely appreciative noise he makes, grabbing more jumper to pull Alex even closer. 

He tries to slide his own tongue into Alex’s mouth, as the other man moves against him again , some definitely interesting friction happening on their entwined legs. It’s suddenly a lot warmer beneath the duvet and Dany feels himself wishing they weren’t wearing quite so much, even if he’s not actually sure what he wants from that.

Alex clearly feels the same, moving against him for more pressure, bringing a leg up as they both make soft noises, Dany feeling slightly out of breath. He grabs for more of Alex, his hand on his jaw moving to thread through spikes of dark hair as they seem to finally get the hang of it, Alex’s hands moving over Dany’s body in a way that feels like it’s sputteringly lighting him up. Like little sparks over his skin, making him more sensitive to Alex’s touch.

Which is unfortunate when Alex moves his leg at the same time Dany twists slightly and a second later he’s on his back whimpering for totally unpleasant reasons, Alex leaning over him to apologise profusely. “Fuck, I’m so sorry - fuck. God. I’m really sorry, are you ok?”

Dany tries not to make a whiny noise. Alex’s knee turns out to be a pretty horrible thing to take a hard impact from on your dick, especially in a state of mild arousal. He tries to resist the urge to stick a hand in his pyjamas and soothe his injured cock but, well, they were just kissing and it’s not like Alex doesn’t know it happened. 

After a few seconds of subsiding pain he manages to open his eyes, bat Alex away from hovering with his free hand. “It’s fine, not your fault.”

“I liked it. If it helps.” Dany’s pretty sure, even if his English is still sometimes a bit dubious, that Alex is talking about the kissing and not the kneeing him in the dick. 

He coughs out a laugh “Yeah, I can see why Mitch and Carlos are into it.”

Alex pulls a face but settles back into the sofa, pulling the duvet back up around them while Dany decides he’s indulged himself enough, takes his hand out of his pants and cuddles up against Lynn. It’s weird, in the sense they don’t quite have a way of fitting together but it feels comforting, if nothing more than that and Alex’s fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck feel better than he’d have expected.

He can feel Alex’s pulse, almost hear his returning-to-normal heartrate where they’re wrapped close to each other, trying not to lie on their arms or legs. Alex smells like pizza and aftershave and something that’s probably slightly like sex, which is satisfying. 

Dany genuinely means to move them to his bed because they’re both pretty tall and the sofa is very not but between not wanting to move for a minute in case he bruises his dick and the warmth of Alex’s embrace, they drift to sleep there, tangled up with each other. 

\--------

Carlos cuddles up against Mitch’s chest, feeling very insecure all of a sudden. Pressing himself against Mitch’s sleeping body isn’t really helping but the warm contact is better than feeling upset lying separately and it’s hardly Mitch’s fault he’s angsting.

It’s the early hours of the morning - he can’t see the bedside clock without moving enough that he’ll probably wake Mitch up but there’s occasional street noise outside that says it must be about 6am, the city beginning to wake up. It’s warm in the bed and Mitch’s skin is radiating heat, his friend’s sleepy breathing lightly brushing Carlos’ hair, where Mitch has turned his head to nuzzle him. 

It should feel good, peaceful, Carlos’ feet tangled against Mitch’s ankle, Mitch’s arm around his shoulders and Carlos pressed against his side, one arm hugging him and the other slightly awkwardly squashed between them. Mitch was really good to him last night, trying to cheer Carlos up about the fact Dany just doesn’t seem to be into him, after years of trying to convince him to make a move.

They’d kind of gone on a date, since Carlos had never been on one, then got really pretty tipsy in the fanciest club in Milton Keynes - which wasn’t really saying a huge amount but had been fun. Mitch had smiled at him like he wanted him, fitted their bodies and mouths together, taken them home and undressed him and made Carlos come in his mouth, gently coaxed him through returning the favour when Carlos had wanted to, asked him to. 

It had felt good at the time, swept up in it all. But now he’s feeling inadequate and cowardly - he’d woken up assuming the body he was curled up with was Dany, slightly confused to be pushed against bronzed muscle not one of Dany’s hoodies. Which is natural enough, he’s never slept curled up with anyone else before.

He feels empty and weirdly guilty - both that he’s not really enjoying Mitch holding him, as much as he’s clinging to it and that Mitch isn’t Dany. Which is ridiculous because Carlos has been desperately dropping hints for years and he doesn’t know  _ why  _ he has such a crippling crush on the Russian except that they’re both as socially awkward and competitive as each other and when Dany smiles at him it’s completely different to the way he smiles at anyone else and Carlos has never fantasised so much about just kissing someone, holding hands with him.

He loves Dany the way you only can with a rival - he thinks he’s brilliant, challenging, the perfect foil for Carlos’ own skills. They make each other better in everything they do, it had just seemed natural they’d take on working out all this together, teach each other to be amazing lovers. 

And it’s just not happening. Carlos  _ adores _ that they can cuddle, that Dany will wrap himself around him and stroke Carlos’ hair when he’s sad or stressed, that they touch each other so comfortably. Dany’s extremely non-physical, never touches anyone else like he does with Carlos and it feels so good, so special between them. 

Dany hasn’t kissed him, though. Carlos has to accept that he’s just not as in love with him as he’d like him to be, same as Mitch does with Alex - they can’t hang off them forever, endlessly hoping it turns into something else. Carlos is a young man, he wants quite a lot more than some hair-stroking and Mitch had offered and it just seemed like something he should do. Could do, without upsetting himself.

He should have known he’s hopelessly sappy. He sighs against Mitch, shifting anxiously as he hugs himself closer to the other man. He’s a bit worried, as well - he doesn’t think Mitch is going to take the piss out of him or tell everyone Carlos has way too much gag reflex or anything but he knows it wasn’t Mitch’s first time for anything, that Mitch won’t be feeling as weird about it as he is. 

Someone else turning him on, getting him off, had felt incredible - no matter anything else, that’s wank material for the next six months at least. Mitch had kissed him in the club, hands on Carlos hips where he’d decided to be brave and crawled onto Mitch’s lap and it had been like fire and lightning and electricity over his skin - he had no idea someone grabbing his arse could send such a jolt of heat through him. 

And then when Mitch had pushed him onto the bed, undone his shirt while licking all over his chest, he’d just given into the sensations of the soft duvet beneath him and hands and tongue and mouth everywhere on his body. Mitch had been gentle, thorough, teasing him long enough to let him get a real taste of what a skillful blow job was like by pulling back every time Carlos got close. 

He’d shocked him by dipping lower at one point, grabbing one of Carlos’ legs to get more room and then licking his ass for a few, startling seconds - sensations Carlos hadn’t expected and wasn’t prepared for, the wetness freaking him out almost as much as the feel of someone touching him there, Mitch’s stubble scratching against the sensitive skin at the top of his thighs. 

He’d come a few seconds later, Mitch’s mouth back on his cock and a finger pressing against his asshole, totally overcome by his own excitement. He hadn’t expected to come - or at least, not like that. He’d kind of thought him and Mitch would fool around and Carlos would get himself off about it the next day but then, Mitch knows what he’s doing and the precise point of this was so Carlos stopped thinking about stupid things like saving himself for Dany. 

Comparatively, Carlos definitely didn’t know what he was doing and choked himself about every second and a half while he tries to blow Mitch - he was at least glad that hadn’t been with Dany, who would’ve been mortified that he might be hurting him, instead of carefully instructive about when to breathe. He was pretty sure Mitch had done most of the work with his own hand, in the end but he’d had his mouth on him when the Kiwi had come, swallowed down the bitter spunk and felt pretty pleased with himself for a minute.

But now his throat slightly hurts and he can’t work out if it’s last night or that he feels a bit close to tears and he wishes he could teleport home, that he wasn’t going to have to do the bus journey of shame and then face his flatmates without anyone to spoon up around him and make it better. He wants nothing more than for Dany to come and hold him and make it all feel better, the way he always does but Carlos has the feeling that Mitch might take fairly strong exception to him demanding the Russian join them in bed. 

He idly wonders how Dany and Alex got on - they sort of know each other but are both inclined to a bit of lonerism, beyond their flatmates and Mitch and Carlos so it would be good for them if they got close. Carlos has occasionally felt guilty that he and Mitch just had an instant, easy friendship - both smaller and gigglier and more enthusiastic about trying new extreme sports than their taller, more cautious crushes. 

And of course the fact they could bond over Dany and Alex ignoring them. Which had been reassuring - Carlos had mostly reconciled himself to his sexuality but had never talked about it to anyone, especially the crush on Daniil part. Mitch had a similar enough temperament to him that they seemed to experience the feelings in the same way, even if Mitch was way further along in his career - GP3 champion, headed to GP2 - and had had way more sex. 

Which, to be fair, was ‘any at all’ in Carlos’ case. He was naturally inclined to be fairly well behaved and then he’d thought he’d been busy with racing until he worked out he was actually occupying himself trying to have… sex or something with Dany. Whatever it was he wanted there, which definitely included some pretty detailed ideas about lying in bed with him and kissing and moving against each other, fucking one day when they’d explored every inch of each other.

He feels like he’s spoiled that - even though it was never going to happen. Shifts unhappily at the way his body had responded just to thinking about it. 

“Dude, stop wriggling. It’s like 7am,” Carlos freezes at Mitch’s voice, although the tone is amused and affectionate. “Hey, are you ok?”

Carlos can’t make his mouth work to lie and say he’s fine, makes a huffy, stressed noise instead and feels Mitch suddenly wake up, shifting down to hug him close. “How long have you been awake?”

Carlos can answer that without having an emotional meltdown - and he knows that’s why Mitch is asking him, distracting him with something easier but he’s grateful for it. “Dunno? A few hours.”

Mitch pulls him closer, catches one of Carlos’ legs between his and draws soothing circles across his lower back with one hand, other other running through Carlos’ hair. With his nose pressed into Mitch’s collarbone and no longer alone with his thoughts, he feels a lot more stable. Even if Mitch’s fingers keep catching in his hair, stroking it the wrong way.

“Shit, sorry, I should’ve woken up.” Mitch pushes them closer, “I’m kind of… I really enjoyed it, don’t panic too much dude. We’ll work out what’s happening some other time.”

Carlos isn’t really sure what Mitch means by that and somehow finds that reassuring. A lack of certainty is possibly what he needs, rather than thinking about this all as binarist choices away from what he’s been pining for. Definitely, as Mitch nuzzles at him, making their lips meet and Carlos tries to relax into it, remember that Mitch is hot as  _ fuck  _ and had completely taken him apart with his mouth last night.

Mitch is a good kisser, gentle and playful, nipping at Carlos’ lower lip in between languidly pressing their mouths together - it makes Carlos feel much calmer, more a return to the pleased-with-himself high of making Mitch come last night. Their bodies are warm, Mitch’s exuding the comfort of sleep, relaxed under Carlos’ hands in a way that seems to flow into him, lets some of the anxious tension go. 

“What do you think they got up to without us?” Mitch laughs at the question, rolls Carlos onto his back and then on top of him, looking down at him with a fairly wicked expression as he grinds down a little, pushing their cocks together - Carlos hadn’t even noticed he was hard.

“Nothing this fun, I guarantee.” Carlos opens his mouth when Mitch bends down to kiss him again, bucks up his hips and lets go of the whole thing. 

\----------

Alex wakes up with his head tucked against Dany’s shoulder. It’s surprisingly comfortable, given how skinny the Russian is and Alex finds himself totally reluctant to move, nuzzling slightly closer.

They’re half-lying on the sofa, both too tall to really stretch out, Dany on his back on the cushions, one leg dangling off the edge and the other hooked over Alex’s knees, where he’s kind of curled around on his side, pleasantly jammed between Dany and the back of the seats.

Dany’s not really asleep anymore, either, he can tell but they’re sort of comfortably lying together, moving very slowly against each other. Dany’s fingers are tracing down the back of his neck in minute motions and Alex has his hand on the other boy’s thigh, gently stroking. He isn’t sure if they’ll kiss again but finds himself really wanting to.

He doesn’t want to leave and go home and think about the fact Mitch is fucking Carlos. He wants to stay in the duvet with Dany and pretend none of it is happening - if he does that, his heart might not break into a million pieces and who knows, he might even find a way to do something about the morning erection he’s pretty sure Dany must be able to feel.

He looks across at the Russian to see how asleep he’s pretending to be, sees him staring at the ceiling in apparent consternation “I still can’t believe they fucking Snapchatted a date. What is wrong with them?”

Alex gets a little bold, nuzzles up to Dany’s neck, curls his thighs up slightly to entangle them further, “I don’t know. I’m not looking at my phone again until the last few expire, I really don’t need to know.”

Dany hums at him, agreeing. They shift around slightly until they’re almost facing each other, Dany kind of twisted over Alex until he moves to wind their legs together, instead of hogging all the room, realising Dany must actually be pretty uncomfortable and just not mentioning it. 

“Do you-”

“Yes.” Alex didn’t even get to finish his question, Dany sounding pretty urgent in his reply. 

Alex considers for a minute, decides he’s been making Dany do enough of the bravery and maybe he ought to pull himself together a bit “Less clothes. We should be wearing less clothes.”

Dany makes a quiet noise that could be want or distress and for a horrible, horrible second Alex thinks he’s gone too far, can already feel the apology bubbling up in his throat as the other boy sits up and pulls of his hoodie. Well. Alex writhes to shove off his jeans, pull his jumper over his head, hissing a bit as the cold air of the flat hits his skin, relieved when Dany bundles him back down under the duvet.

It’s  _ much  _ better tangling together without clothes. Much weirder, too because the only other person Alex really cuddles anything like this closely is Mitch, who is like the physical opposite of Dany on almost every level, so it’s very unfamiliar. Dany feels good against him, though - solid in a sinewy, lithe way and the way they curl together feels elegant, Dany’s touches precise and careful, delicately engineered.

Concentrating on not fucking up and causing an injury, this time, Alex draws Dany to him and makes their lips meet, initially just chaste and experimental. It’s a bit like their kiss last night but much less awkward, settling into it far faster. They’re pulling back every few seconds to just touch each other, stroking and exploring, very slightly rocking into each other. 

Alex has wanted to touch a dick for a long time, wanted to feel what it’s like to have someone else touch his. He can feel something quite like butterflies in his stomach at the thought it’s finally going to happen. It’s pure excitement, rather than nerves, anticipating Dany’s touches as the Russian runs fingers up Alex’s thigh, reaches the hem of his boxers and dances across the outline of his hard on delicately, making Alex moan. 

It’s the lightest touch but he’s been waiting for it since yesterday evening, since the first time he curled up with Mitch, since he was 13. They’ve stopped kissing, stopped breathing, as Dany gets a little bolder, his touch getting firmer and more confident, tracing over the shape of Alex’s dick, dragging a line up it with his index finger that makes Alex whine and start taking in air again with a sudden gasp. 

Dany kisses away his slight whimper as he moves his hand to the waistband of Alex’s pants, winds it into them and Alex is practically vibrating with need for him to do it, to get his hand on Alex’s dick. He mewls against Dany’s mouth, thrusts slightly to nudge his dick against Dany’s fingers, too desperate for it to happen already, then full on whines, feeling himself shake slightly, when Dany closes his fingers around him, giving him an experimental pump.

Fuck, fuck - it feels nothing like his own hand, Dany’s slightly off the mark on what feels the best and the angle is awkward but it’s  _ amazing.  _ He didn’t know it would feel so good, just having someone lightly touch him, tentatively wank him off, sending shocks of pleasure down his dick and across his thighs, making his stomach flinch with the intimacy of someone touching him there.

He mewls again, goes back in to kiss Dany as the Russian works out a rhythm and Alex realises he ought to do something to reciprocate - god, he’s bad at this. He fumbles towards Dany’s waist, feeling like he’s got zero finesse as he finds the elastic and just shoves his hand into Dany’s boxers.

It’s really different to touching his own dick - not least because someone else is doing that for him  _ at the same time  _ but Dany hums appreciatively when Alex gets his hand round his cock, jerks him cautiously. He tries it again, twists his wrist slightly, feels Dany’s whole body shudder and for a second he thinks he’s fucked up and hurt him again but then Dany mumbles into his ear “ _ Fuck _ , so good.”

Alex agrees. He was enjoying Dany touching him -  _ definitely  _ enjoying it, he can already feel an orgasm on the horizon, even if there’s a way to go to get there - but getting his hands on a dick, being able to get a reaction out of Dany, is incredible. He hadn’t considered how much getting someone else off was part of the appeal of sex, how much drawing noises and breathless pants out of someone else would turn him on. 

He thrusts upwards, into Dany’s hand, the other man’s grip slick with pre-come now and Alex is so turned on he feels brave enough to try something. He extracts his hand from Dany’s boxers, gently removes Dany’s from his and interlaces their fingers - which earns him a disappointed noise but he does have a plan.

He wriggles to get his weight on one knee, trying not to overbalance as he pins Dany’s hands on the armrest, looking down into surprised and turned on Hazel-green eyes. He’s not absolutely sure how he’s going to do this but he’s got a vague idea of what feels good from cuddling earlier and so he presses his mouth to Dany’s, pushes their bodies together. 

They both moan, the friction feeling beyond good - hot, sensitive skin grinding together and Alex wishes they’d taken their shirts off, hungry for more skin-on-skin. Their bare thighs rubbing together feels incredibly tender, he can feel every taut muscle of Dany’s leg, knows when he’s going to buck up before he does it from the way he tenses. 

He kisses Dany harder, their tongues sliding over each other as Alex thrusts against him, doing nothing more elaborate than humping but somehow it feels  _ so  _ good, that they’re pushing against each other, a simulation of something more. He’s panting from the strain, from the way it’s difficult to draw in a breath because it feels so good and then a few seconds later he’s slumping down onto Dany and whining helplessly as he comes in his pants.

“Fuck.” He’s breathless, tucked into Dany’s neck, letting go of his hands as Alex pants helplessly, little aftershocks of pleasure running through his body as he humps Dany a few last times. Dany kisses him gently, an affectionate noise in the back of his throat, then moves to get out from under Alex at the same time as Alex realises Dany hasn’t come yet and tries to reach for him and they fall off the sofa in a tangle of duvet. 

At least the cushioning means there’s no serious injuries this time, Alex landing underneath Dany, their positions suddenly reversed and it seems to do something to Kvyat, who grips Alex’s hip, puts a hand tenderly to his cheekbone to kiss him again, thrusts a couple of times against his leg and comes with a series of shudders. If his cock wasn’t still slowly softening in his wet pants, he’d say it was fucking arousing, having someone take command like that, take what they wanted from his body.

They lie together for a few minutes, jammed between the sofa and the coffee table and - bluntly - covered in spunk. It shouldn’t really be nice but it is, Dany a pleasant weight on his body, both of them absently tracing patterns on each other.

Eventually Alex can’t keep his mouth shut “So, uh, we kind of fucked?”

Dany looks startled for a second, then grins. “Yeah. We should Instagram it.”

Alex punches him in the arm and they settle back into cuddling, occasionally sneaking grins at each other. Fuck, they actually had sex. All on their own.

\------------

“How was it with Alex?” Carlos is fiddling with the bottom of his sweater, which Dany is about 90% sure is actually one of his. He’s never seen Carlos look so awkward around him and completely hates it, drinking coffee in the shitty kitchen of his and Nick’s flat.

Also he doesn’t have a suitable answer to that. “Uh, good. Football wasn’t great. How was your and Mitch’s evening?”

Carlos blushes a deep crimson and looks at the floor, which makes Dany’s heart fall out of his ribcage. He’d been kind of hoping they maybe hadn’t actually fucked, even if he’s got no right to - that Carlos was still somehow kind of his, he and Alex having been totally honest with each other about who they were really after.

“Good, nice. We went to Nexus.” Carlos looks up at him suddenly, with a weirdly upset expression given the next thing he says is “I stayed at his.”

Dany doesn’t know what to say to that, to Carlos looking a bit tearful while he’s telling him everything he doesn’t want to hear. He hopes it’s because Carlos knows, isn’t enjoying breaking Dany’s heart but there’s something else there, too - he seems more sad for himself than anything, which is completely bizarre. 

“Oh yeah? Alex stayed over here, it was fucking freezing.” Dany doesn’t know why he’s playing it down, why he’s inventing reasons Carlos could take for sleeping in Mitch’s bed that aren’t the obvious.

Carlos laughs slightly, “It still is - did Nick curse the heating again?”

“Mmm, thank god he doesn’t touch the coffee machine.” Dany pokes Carlos’ foot with his - he doesn’t really want them to get off topic, as much as he never wants to go near this topic again. If his heart’s going to be broken he can’t take it being done slowly, steels himself and tries not to let his voice shake. “So you and Mitch?”

Carlos looks down again, pushing his mug around the table a little. “Yeah. I guess.”

Dany needs him to say it - although he really doesn’t need any more confirmation. Mitch’s Instagram had told him the story the next day - a photo of Carlos eating eggs benedict, laughing at the hollandaise dripping pornographically off his fork, a lovebite just visible on his collarbone. 

The borrowed jumper is covering it now and he feels quietly pleased that even if Mitch has Carlos’ body, he’s still wearing Dany’s clothes. He moves his socked foot over Carlos’ again, feeling like he wants to soothe him, although fuck knows what about - ‘sorry to hear you’re having amazing sex with an undeniably great guy who’s surely headed for F1 before any of us and seems to make you extremely happy in a way I can’t?’ It’s not something they make greetings cards for.

He grits his jaw for a minute, stretches a hand out to touch Carlos’ fingers, not exactly holding hands but pressing the pads of their fingertips together. Their hands are warm in the chilly room, heated by the mugs and it feels sweet and painful, everything he thought they were slipping away through his fingers, bleeding out the warmth.

“That’s good, Mitch is great,” he’s not sure how much further he can push himself before he cries - but they always live at the edge, “You look good together.”

Carlos looks sad, still and moves his fingers to wrap round Dany’s hand like he’s clinging to him. “Yeah. Mitch is really good. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Oh. Maybe Carlos is looking sad because he doesn’t know how to fuck Mitch and he’s worried about embarrassing himself? For a wild moment, Dany nearly wants to tell him that he and Alex kind of worked out some form of sex, on the sofa. And then again later in his bed, Lex succeeding in making them both come without anyone falling off anything or risking injury that time. 

He’s been low-key pleased with himself ever since it happened, he and Alex had spent the day being ...well, kind of sweet.  Half-playing, exploring themselves more than each other but definitely getting comfortable rolling around together, curling up with each other again to sleep. They’d left together on the Sunday morning, still giggling and smiling at each other, had brunch in a pub kind of equidistant between their flats - which felt like the sort of thing grown up, sex-having people do - and shared a slightly foolhardy, chaste kiss when they parted to go their separate ways.

And then Dany had come back to his freezing cold flat, changed his sheets, stuck the washing machine on and cried for the entire duration of the ‘cottons’ cycle. 

It doesn’t come out right when he speaks. “I kissed Alex.”

Carlos looks - well, appalled is the right word for it. “What?”

“Err, we thought… we should.” He’s shaking slightly, especially where their hands are joined. He hates that they’re having this conversation, that the thing he’d nursed as a thought that could happen is being dismantled between them. 

“Why?” Carlos looks  _ so hurt.  _ Dany feels a weird flash of fury - did Carlos think he could fuck off with Mitch and keep him as a spare or something? But that’s not Carlos, this is all going so strangely.

He shrugs, rubbing his thumb over Carlos’ fingers, “Well… you were and you’d set us up, so.”

Carlos makes a very quiet noise and Dany thinks he might be swallowing back tears, which is a bit rich when they’d had to endure Friday’s Snapchat onslaught. At least Dany and Alex didn’t tweet themselves lying in his sheets, hair disarrayed across the pillows and Cheshire cat expressions of satisfaction.

“So you’re… and him?” Carlos’s lower lip is actually wobbling and Dany feels totally off-kilter, slightly nauseous from the way this is going. He knew it would be horrible, had been waiting for it for days now but it’s worse than he ever could’ve imagined, this slow destruction of something he’d hung so much hope on.

“I don’t know. Not yet. Maybe.” He hadn’t really thought about whether there was a future with Lex, although he vaguely thought they might comfort each other a few more times, if Mitch and Carlos is happening. He’s not entirely sure what he thinks of Alex, who’s very different to him in some ways and incredibly similar in a lot of others and Dany’s had a few guilty wanks thinking about broad shoulders and a body pressed against him, letting him touch, the sensation-echoes of being touched back.

“Ok.” Carlos is actually about to cry, which sets Dany off - this is unbearable, he hadn’t expected Carlos to be hurt and he feels slightly resentful of the sick guilt he’s nursing, underneath the waves and waves of pain that they didn’t make it happen between them. 

He pulls Carlos over, into his lap and it’s everything he wants if they weren’t both sobbing horribly, Carlos curled around him. He tucks his head into his teammate’s neck, his nose pressing against the spot he knows has a bruise in the shape of Mitch’s mouth. 

They cry against each other for a bit, huddled close. Dany doesn’t really let himself cry in front of people, normally - he’s embarrassed enough by himself in general that he doesn’t need to add ending up blotchy and snotty in public. But him and Carlos have been close enough to comfort each other for so long it’s impossible to resist taking the opportunity, even when the younger man’s what he’s trying to console himself about.

Carlos’ fingers are curled into his hair, tugging on it slightly as they tremble against each other in a sad pantomime of the way he’d like them to. Dany knows Carlos actually has quite a complex about being small, despite the fact they’re nearly the same height, now and he knows he wouldn’t let anyone else hold him like this. He had wondered if that was some of the appeal of Mitch - aside from the obvious bronzed, godlike looks and funny, friendly warmth - the Kiwi is so tiny he must make Carlos feel tall.

Thinking about ways in which Mitch is more attractive than he is is a great way to not stop crying any time soon. Carlos curls tighter around him, almost crushing and they have an intense few seconds of gripping each other, harsh breathing as the tears subside. Carlos is warm and shaky against him and he doesn’t think he could stand up, even if the other boy wasn’t on his lap - his whole body feels leaden and broken and like he couldn’t get it to do anything.

Carlos distracts him from the abyssal gloom by stroking his hair and neck, sniffling slightly and still sounding choked when he speaks, breaking Dany’s heart at the same time as making him glow a bit, “You’re my best friend, you’re always going to be my best friend.”

Dany holds him tighter - it’s not exactly what he wants but he’d rather they kept that than lost everything. He can break his heart over Carlos loving Mitch rather than lose him entirely - they’ve been friends for years, a brief experiment with hoping they could be something else was no reason to ruin that.

He’s never broken up with someone but it feels like this is maybe something like it, that he’s being dumped. He guesses he must have been pretty obvious with how much he’d wanted Carlos, it can’t have been a fun thing to endure or end. And maybe they know where they stand at least now, it’ll take away the awkward.

They sit for a long while together, not talking, still hugging. Until Carlos reaches for his phone, sees the time and swears, “Shit, fuck- I have to go. Fuck.”

Dany can’t help himself “Seeing Mitch?”

Carlos looks like he’s about to cry again for a second, “Yeah. Sorry.”

He can do this. He can do this. “No, that’s good, that’s great - go make your hair sexy or whatever.”

Carlos pouts at him, deliberately scruffing his own hair up with one hand and laughing, “It’s always sexy.”

It really is. Dany’s stupid heart is fucking doomed.

\-------

Mitch misses Ace already and he feels horrible about it. The other driver had left earlier, before Mitch started getting ready to meet Carlos - he’s glad Alex isn’t too weirded out that Mitch actually is gay, after the amount they’ve snuggled together over the years, even if Ace clearly isn’t interested in taking it any further.

He wants to stop thinking about it. He really, really should not be thinking about when he’s undressing Carlos, fingers working the buttons of his shirt open - Mitch loves sex and he  _ adores  _ Carlos, this should be something he’s focussed on. 

He tries to push Alex out of his mind as he lets Carlos slide his tongue into his mouth, loving and hot. The Spaniard is unbelievably sexy, all warmth and smoulder and playful in a way he recognises in himself, Carlos less experienced in some things but comfortable in himself, confident about touching. It’s the absolute opposite of the way Alex is so held back, up tight and anxious and always carefully restrained in showing anything.

“I haven’t done it before.” Carlos has pulled back from the kiss, worrying his lip and Mitch almost wants to laugh or possibly cry - he knows, they’ve talked about this plenty. Mitch has technically never fucked a virgin before but he and Carlos managed to work things out pretty well the last night they spent together and he’d kind of enjoyed watching other man work things out, taking the odd bit of gentle instruction.

“I know, dude. It’s not a problem, we don’t have to - we’ll just see where it goes.” He threads his fingers through Carlos’ hair, catching on tangles of gel and snags between the dark threads. He wants to make it as good as he can, of course and he  _ really  _ wants to make sure Carlos is into everything they do, that he’s into whatever they do.

“I really want to. I want it, Mitch.” He appreciates the shout-out, there - Carlos saying he wants it  _ with him  _ because god knows they’ve been pretty open about who they were chasing, before they decided to try this. Mitch smiles, nudges him towards the bed as he undoes the last of the shirt buttons.

“Me too.” He does, he’s always thought Carlos was stunning and as hopelessly gone on Alex as he might be, Carlos is much better than a back-up option. He starts on the Spaniard’s belt, pressing kisses against his neck as he feels hands go to his own flies, smiles against Carlos’ skin.

Mitch pushes him down onto the bed, half wrestles with him as they fight to get each other’s jeans off and it feels good, feels really fun as Carlos nips at his shoulder, pushing down Mitch’s underwear as well. “Eager,” he teases as he circles a finger underneath the waistband of Carlos’ boxers, feeling the curve of muscle at his hip.

Carlos pouts at him, “I  _ really  _ want it. Been waiting so long.”

He stops teasing, pulls Carlos’ boxers off and kicks the last of his clothes onto the floor, toeing off his socks and then drawing the duvet over both of them. Being warm and not feeling exposed is a good start, he thinks - also he’s never self-conscious about his body but Carlos really is intimidatingly hairy and he’s suddenly feeling slightly inadequate in the testosterone stakes. He’s trying  _ really  _ hard to not think it reminds him of Mark and never get a boner again.

“Hey,” he draws Carlos to him, presses them together - the skin-on-skin contact feels good, both kind of half-aroused but not exactly at ‘ready to fuck.’ Ok, he can change that. 

They kiss and nuzzle for a long moment, hands roaming - he’s shorter than Carlos but not by a huge amount, able to slightly wrap himself around him, a knee between his legs. It’s hot and good, Carlos licking into his mouth, clearly waiting for Mitch to take the lead but happy enough giving it, as Mitch’s hands trail lower, stroking over firm muscle on his legs and arse.

Mitch attempts, fumblingly, to make the inevitable question sexy - “Do you want me inside you, or?” 

He can feel the heat of Carlos blushing, their faces so close and the Spaniard’s reply is almost inaudibly quiet, whispered against his mouth “In me. Please.”

He smiles, kisses him again - he’d kind of thought that was the way it would go, although Mitch generally prefers bottoming. He’d topped, his first time and been ludicrously excited to just  _ have sex  _ but kind of disappointed it hadn’t been him getting dicked, not to mention insanely nervous about performing. Easier to lie back and let it happen, have someone treat you good.

“Ok, ok - cool. It’ll be good, I promise.” He can feel Carlos smiling at that, one hand smoothing over Mitch’s shoulder as he rolls them so he’s on top. 

“Just - stay calm and let me know if you want me to stop and we will, it’s all good.” Carlos smiles at him, clearly slightly nervous but encouraging and he kisses him again, as tender as he can make it, their stubble rubbing together very pleasingly as he strokes Carlos’ jaw, trails a hand down his body.

Mitch kisses down him, pleased by the little breathy noise Carlos makes as he licks over a nipple, the way the other man shifts underneath him, spreads his legs easily to let Mitch half-kneel between them, burrowing his way down under the duvet. 

He kisses across Carlos’ stomach, hair tickling his nose as he moves across to lick his hipbone, nip gently at the muscles there before he bends even further to nuzzle at Carlos’ thigh, hands tracing through the dark hair as he kisses upwards again. He can feel the tension in Carlos, the uncertainty about what to do with himself or what to anticipate and he’s trying to make sure he leads into everything, hands moving slowly further up his thighs, stroking and massaging.

He tries to keep his touches firm, not teasing or trying to excite Carlos - who’s clearly already oversensitised by nervous anticipation and that’s really not going to help with what comes next, as he spits on his fingers and leans forward to kiss Carlos’ dick, one hand moving to a firm grip on his hip.

Mitch swirls his tongue around the head of Carlos’ cock as he moves his fingers to his arse, no intent to actually put them  _ in  _ him yet - that will definitely need lube - but just to get him used to the concept, stop it being so alien to have someone touching him there. Mitch distinctly remembers it tickling and making him squirm, the first time, Richie’s stubble irritating his thighs and making him tense whilst he was trying to open him up.

He traces his fingers over Carlos’ hole, spit-slick enough that it’s easy, skin hot to his touch but not as tense as Mitch had feared. Of course, getting an expert blow job maybe helping to distract him, there, Mitch flattening his tongue as he lets the tip of Carlos’ cock hit the back of his throat, earning quite a strangled noise.

Ok, time to get real with this, then. He crawls up over Carlos, resting his weight on his chest as he tries to grab stuff from the bedside table without looking. He grinds a little against Carlos, who’s looking up at him with a fair amount of lust and intensity - good, good. This is going well. 

He’s fairly confident in his abilities with most things but taking Carlos’ virginity seemed like unknown territory and while he’s trying to keep Carlos calm, he’s kind of doing the same for himself. “Hey, still want this?”

Carlos shoves him, “Yes, stop asking. Making me nervous.” Mitch kisses him gently, outstretched hand finally closing around the lube bottle. 

“Consent is kind of important dude, I don’t want this if you don’t.” He presses a few kisses to Carlos jaw and neck, wriggling southwards again. 

“You don’t want it?” Carlos voice is very small. Mitch freezes.

“No - no, god no” he shifts his hips to rub his own cock on Carlos’ leg for emphasis, “Of course I want you, you’re one of my best friends and you’re gorgeous. I meant I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do.” He forgets Carlos sometimes has English failures, still.

The other man considers him for a minute, eyes glittering in the light of the bedside lamp that Mitch is kind of trying to pass off as ‘mood lighting’. “Ok.” 

There’s quite a long pause, then Carlos reaches up to stroke Mitch’s hair, “I really liked your mouth.”

Mitch grins, not needing to ask where. And, well, if Carlos likes oral then that might be a good start to this generally. He kisses his way back down, sliding completely off Carlos’ body to rest on the mattress between his legs, crouched over so he can gently pick Carlos’ ankles up to hook them over his shoulders, getting a slightly flustered-horny noise out of him.

Mitch hums as he goes in, kissing Carlos’ balls, then lower and lower until he can press his lips against the pucker of his asshole, swiping his tongue out to tease a little. He was pretty sure Carlos had enjoyed it when he’d done this while blowing him, what with coming about five seconds later and Mitch kind of loves rimming so he’s happy enough to lick his way into Carlos, tongue laving over tight muscle. 

Carlos makes a really whiny noise and wriggles slightly, not used to the sensations - and, Mitch suspects, a bit self-conscious about how hairy his arse is, which he really shouldn’t be because it’s kind of impressive - but he moves his legs to give Mitch more access, moans when Mitch works the tip of his tongue into him. He’s tight, which is expected and it’s kind of crushing Mitch’s tongue slightly but he keeps working at it, massaging the ring of muscle until Carlos can work out how to relax.

He feels Carlos get into it, the sensations going from weird to sexy as Mitch works his tongue in and out of him, getting him as wet and open as he can as Carlos turns slightly wanton for it, eager to get more and starting to babble a little - “Fuck - ah -  _ fuck, _ oh my god.”

Good, swearing is good. Mitch is pleased to say he’s never failed to get someone kind of a bit wild, in the bedroom. Or the bathroom. Or a beach or that balcony that one time or the kitchen. He’s into new experiences.

His tongue is genuinely starting to hurt, though, so he gives a few last, long licks, swirling his tongue over the ring of muscle and dipping in one last time, Carlos as relaxed as he’s likely to get. 

He lets Carlos’ legs fall off him as he sits up a little, twists the top of the lube to open it and pumps a good amount straight on to Carlos, which he probably should have warned him about, the other man shifting uncomfortably instead of the slightly boneless state he’d been flopping in. “Hey, this is going to feel awesome.”

Carlos smiles down at him, kind of peeking under the duvet in a way that makes his disarrayed hair look completely  _ adorable,  _ “It’s cold and wet.”

“Not for long, baby” Mitch plays his fingers through the lube, slicking him up and Carlos closes his eyes self-consciously, tips his head back. “Ok, just - relax and breathe, yeah?”

Carlos makes a kind of halfway-impatient noise and Mitch decides to stop drawing it out, pushes the tip of his index finger in - “Breathe, Carlos - I know it’s weird but it gets really good.”

He can feel the tension in the other man, trying to work out how he feels about the breach. But it’s better if you move, so he wriggles his finger in a little further, doesn’t exactly fuck him with it but keeps it moving in small circles, getting deeper. The first time Richie fingered him it had felt fucking weird at this point, the strangeness of feeling the lube worked into him and his ass opened, then as soon as he’d got two fingers in and gone deeper it had been a stretch but  _ great.  _ Almost like scratching an itch, the pleasure so satisfying. 

But then Richie hadn’t spent 15 minutes with his tongue up his arse, first, which might have helped - not that it had been bad but getting unceremoniously turned over someone’s knee and finger-fucked is fairly different to what he’s doing to Carlos.

He tries to screw more of the lube into him, finger moving without too much resistance after a few seconds, Carlos looking like he was concentrating on relaxing, eyes still closed and biting his lip. It’s a good look on him - a slight flush rising on his cheeks, hair messy and wild. Carlos is going to be into this, he can tell - which is a bit sad for Mitch’s prospects of getting fucked hard any time soon but the sight of the Spaniard debauchedly falling apart is hardly unappealling.

Mitch bends down to kiss his dick as he adds a second finger and some more lube, trying to distract him. He’s impressed his boner has only slightly wilted, twitching against his mouth as Carlos makes a half-moaned sound at the stretch, scrabbling for a hold on Mitch. 

“Ah, fuck - fuck that feels huge. Is that only two?” Carlos has his eyes open and is looking at Mitch with a combination of panic and arousal, clearly into it but not sure how much more he can take. 

“Yeah, it’s ok. Relax, dude, we’ll take it slowly.” He wriggles his fingers a bit, to try to get Carlos to settle back into it, stop clenching painfully around his knuckles. The Spaniard lies back, looking up at the ceiling and clearly willing himself to calm down. “It kind of helps if you like… act like you’re taking a shit? I know it’s weird.”

Carlos laughs at that, which makes him clench, which makes him tense up again “Oh, fuck. Ok, ok. What feels good?”

Mitch considers it - the pressure and friction of being fucked is something he loves but doesn’t really have a way to describe. “When someone pushes in, it’s really good - like, it feels too much sometimes but being kind of… full feels really good, so long as there’s enough lube. And when I’m getting fucked there’s this spot that -” he tries to find it on Carlos without making it feel too much like he’s rummaging - “is fucking  _ amazing.  _ Like, I think I could definitely come from someone just rubbing there, it’s like a -” he’s definitely just found Carlos’, the other man arching slightly and making a noise somewhere between shocked and orgasmic - “well, like that.”

Carlos hums, then sounds breathy and rough when he speaks, almost slurring, “ _ Fuuuck _ . Is it going to feel like that when you’re fucking me?”

Mitch bends down again, kisses his thighs, the head of his cock, feeling Carlos relax more and more around his fingers every time he presses his prostate. “It’s better, harder. So good.”

“Do it.” Mitch scrutinises the Spaniard, tries to work out if he’s fronting but Carlos seems to be about as relaxed and open and turned-on as he’s likely to get, even trying to press down on Mitch’s fingers and fuck himself slightly. He looks debauched and excited, nerves mostly gone and cock definitely very erect, darkly flushed and leaking precome. Ok, yeah, he’s gonna fuck him. 

“Ok, one second.” He leans over Carlos, fingers still inside him and grabs a condom off the bedside table. Mitch knows damn well he’s clean but there’s something a bit gross about someone coming in you and he doesn’t want to give Carlos the idea he’d do it with just anyone or get him into bad habits. 

He rips the packet with his teeth, rolls it on one-handed so he can keep his fingers in Carlos until the last second, not let him clench up and keep making him feel good, making him want it so he doesn’t freak out in anticipation. It gets too complicated to lube himself up but it’s less than 30 seconds before he’s nudging his knees under Carlos’ arse, lifting him slightly and making it easier for Mitch to get his cock against him. 

“Ok?” He knows he said to stop asking but Mitch is about to fucking deflower him, for god’s sake. Carlos nods, pulling Mitch down to kiss, pressing them closer together as he bites at Mitch’s lips. It’s a distraction and Mitch knows it, covering some last-minute nerves but also probably making Carlos calm enough that when the tip of his dick pushes into him, he doesn’t totally freak out.

“Oh- oh.” Carlos looks genuinely surprised , a very mixed expression that turns into something close to amazement as Mitch pushes in. It’s quite flattering, given he doesn’t have the biggest dick and he isn’t that used to topping, “Oh my god. Fuck.”

Mitch holds still for a minute, mouthing against Carlos’ neck. He can already feel the heat building between them, Carlos warm to the point of burning, straining at new sensations and well, he’s got his dick somewhere very tight and slick and warm, it has an effect. “Good?”

Carlos makes a confused kind of noise, like he’s not sure if it is or not and Mitch decides it’s time to move, gently thrusting a little deeper a few times, carefully studying Carlos’ reaction. On the third thrust he hits home, Carlos looking much more certain suddenly, closing his eyes and making a happy, satisfied noise, arching a little. “You like that, yeah? You like me fucking you, filling you up?”

Carlos moans and he’s briefly relieved - he was pretty sure Carlos would be into dirty talk, after the way he’d reacted to Mitch describing getting fucked but it’s always a bit of a gamble. “You’re so tight, I’m gonna fuck you open, Chili.”

That gets a  _ pornographic  _ moan out of him and Mitch grins, tries a few harder thrusts that get a babble of Spanish in response, Carlos gripping him tightly. When he starts moving to meet Mitch’s thrusts he knows he can go harder, show him how good it feels to have a dick hit his prostate hard, how the stretch gets good, feels so intense. 

The first time Richie had fucked him, Mitch hadn’t really had an idea of what to expect. He knew he’d liked the couple of times Richie had fingered him, blown him while he was playing him open but that was slow and gentle, steadily stretching him out. When he’d finally convinced him to get his cock in there Mitch had kind of assumed it would just be like fingering but bigger, which would still be good but not what it’s like to get fucked properly, get fucking  _ reamed  _ until the sensations are overwhelming. 

Mitch had fairly rapidly worked out what he liked, which was getting fucked hard, preferably by a decent size guy - he wasn’t a size queen but Richie had kind of wrecked him for smaller dick. Which - without wanting to be judgemental - kind of said he was going to be topping a lot with Carlos. Something he found himself thinking he’d be cool with if the Spaniard kept whining and moaning and clenching around his dick the way he is.

“Fuck. More - Mitch, please” He’s only too happy to give it, the pressure around his cock getting to the sweet spot where everything feels good, especially harder and faster. There’s a little of the tightness building in his balls already - he’d forgotten how great topping can actually feel, apparently or maybe it’s just how much Carlos is blatantly enjoying him fucking into him. 

“Gonna make you come,” he’s too sweatily out of breath for any more elaborate dirty talk, having to interrupt his pace to get a hand round Carlos’ dick. Which makes him arch against Mitch, cry out and clench and Mitch is very not-confident of his ability to make the other man come first, suddenly. 

He matches the rhythm of his thrusts with his hand, kisses and mouths over Carlos’ neck and collarbone to let him lie back and enjoy it and thanks  _ everything  _ when the point that he really cannot stop the almost-pain sensation in his balls overtaking him is the same point Carlos suddenly shudders and keens his way through an orgasm that feels fairly impressive even to Mitch. He’s totally unable to thrust any more as he comes, suddenly pinned by Carlos’ legs and it’s weirdly fucking  _ hot. _

Until, that is, just as he’s really cresting his own and it’s been  _ way  _ too long since he got much action and it feels  _ amazing  _ when Carlos whines, unmistakably, “Dany” into his ear.

Fuck. He pushes himself as far into Carlos as he can, feels himself come and it’s  _ fucked up.  _ They’ve had  _ fucked up sex.  _ Oh god, he didn’t want to have fucked up sex, he wanted to get the fuck over Alex with a really nice time, give Carlos a good seeing-to finally so he could stop pining over Daniil. 

He collapses onto Carlos, panting his way through some fucked-up aftershocks, feeling Carlos coming down from what was probably the orgasm of his fucking life and Mitch is  _ honestly  _ resentful that Dany’s kind of stolen the credit. He should get his dick in there himself, for that. 

He doesn’t think Carlos necessarily knows he said it or that Mitch heard, which is probably for the best. Shit, they have totally failed at doing this. 

\--------

Alex has done a  _ lot  _ of research, over a very substantial number of years. From trying to work out how the fuck two men have sex with each other in the first place to a  _ lot  _ of PornHub and a huge number of actual advice sites - he hates being bad at things, wanted to prepare himself as much as possible.

Turns out there is absolutely no preparation imaginable for having your hand in someone’s arse. Well, not his whole hand - although he gathers that’s a thing - but three of his fingers, with a lot of lube. 

It’s sexier than he thought it would be and also a lot  _ less  _ sexy than he imagined it. It’s kind of more about logistics than arousal but also feeling inside Dany makes him  _ really  _ want to put his cock in him, have him clench tight around Alex. It’s making his dick leak just at the thought.

Kvyat looks slightly as though he’s struggling with it, eyes closed but he catches Alex’s hand and stops him pulling his fingers out, “Fuck - it’s just. Let me get used to it.”

Alex is kind of worried about this, he’d never really thought about it, perception blown by porn but he’s actually quite well-endowed, which seems unfair on Daniil. Maybe he should’ve offered to take it but Dany’s not exactly small either and he’s not sure he’s as good at staying semi-calm with stuff inside him as the Russian is. 

Dany lets go of his hand, makes a determined noise “Just do it, I think it’s worse to wait.”

“You’re sure?” Alex already has a terrible track record for injuring Dany every time they fool around and he doesn’t want to think about the kind of thing he could do to him with this.

“Yes - come on.” Alex doesn’t really need to be told twice - he’s a healthy young man, he’s been dying to get his dick in someone since the first flushes of puberty and if Dany’s willing to take it, he’s very happy to give. He’s surprised how genuinely attracted to the other man he is, how he’s found himself admiring the long, elegant line of Dany’s neck, the curve of his waist and how  _ pretty  _ he is, sometimes. 

It’s kind of weird but he’s found himself quite happy to nurse the crush and he’s fairly sure Dany feels the same about him, has caught the Russian admiring his shoulders, noticed the way he strokes over the muscles across Alex’s hips. It’s odd having sex with someone to learn to fancy them but they seem to genuinely, weirdly work together - both serious and studious and slightly awkward, a little reserved in a way Carlos or Mitch isn’t.

His hands are shaking as he tries to open the condom packet, fumbles it, saves it and fumbles it again. Jesus, get a grip Lynn. He manages it on the third attempt, gets it the right way round and rolls it on without tearing his own dick off or something, which he takes as a victory.

They move around a bit awkwardly, trying to work out a way to do it, eventually maneuvering into a rudimentary missionary and Alex is guiding his cock to Dany’s arse when the other boy taps him to stop him, “Lube.  _ Please.  _ You’re huge, Sasha.”

It shouldn’t turn Alex on as much as it does to hear that - especially with the nickname, which pleases him immensely. He’d asked Dany what his name would be in Russian a few days ago and it had turned out to be incredibly boring, until Daniil had come out with the affectionate form. He likes hearing Dany call him it, likes that they have something special between them with it -  _ Alex  _ might still be struggling a bit with Mitch going off with Carlos but  _ Sasha  _ is going to fuck his new, sexy sort-of-boyfriend or whatever. 

“Yes. Yeah, of course” - he fumbles the lube, as well, the bottle too slick for him to wrangle sensibly, clumsily pumping a fairly large amount onto his dick, then trying not to think about how good smoothing it over himself feels because he’s dangerously close to coming already, just from the idea of getting his dick in someone.

“Thanks.” Dany pulls him back towards him, guiding Alex’s dick himself. Which is probably for the best because Alex has absolutely no idea how to actually put it in someone and Dany must at least know if he’s hurting himself. 

He feels the head of his dick press against flesh, pushes a little and  _ fuck  _ he’s going inside. It’s tighter and hotter than he could’ve ever imagined and it’s so fucking  _ good  _ he can’t help but sink further in. It’s addictive, pleasure shooting down his dick and down to his balls, across his thighs - it’s the best thing he’s ever felt, ever, even better than Dany’s mouth and he doesn’t think he can stop himself coming any second now. 

He pushes again, the resistance feeling so good, Dany’s body opening up to him, accepting his cock as he makes a choked noise against the Russian’s shoulder, feels his own hips buck without being able to control it and comes hard and quickly before he’s even all the way in. Fuck, he hopes Dany’s up for trying this again later so Alex can give it a more convincing go.

“Can you - uhm.” Dany is pushing at his shoulder, “Get out?”

Daniil has his eyes closed and looks slightly pained. _ Shit,  _ Alex was really not paying proper attention. He scrambles to get his softening cock out of Dany, making his sort-of-boyfriend-or-whatever hiss as he withdraws too quickly, getting fucking  _ everything  _ wrong. 

“Shit, shit. I’m so sorry. Fuck. Sorry.”  Dany waves a dismissive hand at him and curls over on his side, leaving Alex to deal with the condom - which is way more complicated than it seems it should be and also quite disgusting - before he cautiously cuddles up around him.

He strokes Dany’s neck, hip, anywhere that seems soothing, “Are you ok?”

“Yeah. I think. It was just a lot.” Alex winces, pulls Dany close to him.

“Maybe you could fuck me next time?” He’s not sure if that’s how it works or if you’re meant to pick a way round and stick with it.

Dany makes a slightly amused sound and moves a hand to hold Alex’s, where it’s tucked over him, “I kind of liked it, maybe just needs practice.”

Alex doesn’t want to sound as eager as he’s going to if he says he’s happy to do  _ that.  _ “Thank you.”

That makes Daniil snuggle back into him a bit and he figures he’s mostly forgiven, if Dany had been holding it against him. “What does it feel like?”

Alex figures he can at least flatter Dany a bit, here - “ _ Really  _ good. So tight and really hot, stronger than a blow job.”

Dany ‘hmms’ at him and pushes back against him a little again, making Alex spoon him in the slightly awkward, too-much-height-parity way they’ve developed. He noses down Dany’s neck, kissing at the soft, short hair and nuzzling his ear until the other boy hums happily, holds the arm Alex has over him closer.

“I really liked it.” He figures reassurance can’t be a bad thing, at this point, even if it turns out he is actually  _ the worst  _ at sex. 

Dany laughs at him, softly, rolls over slightly to meet his eyes “Yeah, I noticed.”

Alex feels himself blush crimson, tries to get a grip on his apology reflex, “It’s kind of a compliment?”

Dany just laughs at him again and rolls over to face him, so they can nuzzle each other and not-quite kiss, faces rubbing together. It’s so much nicer than he would have ever expected this to be, something he’d literally never imagined. And fuck - he just lost his virginity to Dany, he’s finally had sex. Kind of. He might try again before he runs to boast about it or whatever. 

For now, he’s enjoying having the Russian in his arms, feeling a little sappy about things as he presses them together. He feels sort of vulnerable, the same way he has every time they’ve done stuff and he’s incredibly grateful for the way Dany seems to understand that, the way they can curl up with each other and reassure each other after. Even though god knows Alex feels like he probably doesn’t quite deserve anything from Dany right now, moving his own hands to massage the Russian’s shoulders, soothing and - he hopes - appreciative. He does really like him.

As if on cue, Daniil laces their fingers together between their chests. Alex has noticed they’re slightly more romantic with each other than he feels like they should be, not just in the sense that they cuddle a lot, which is more symptomatic of neither of them quite knowing what they’re doing than anything but also they hold hands all the time. Even in a coffee shop, yesterday. And they play footsie in public, which feels really wrong and incredibly nice.

He can’t work out whether it’s just all the holding themselves back with Mitch and Carlos suddenly turning into a total lack of restraint as soon as they’ve got someone who’ll respond or whether maybe this is what it’s supposed to be like. Awkward, romantic, strangely comfortable. 

It’s not like he’s thinking about marrying Dany or something but they’ve been hanging out, mostly naked, every night in the past week and he’d like it to carry on if they can make their schedules make sense. As consolation prizes go, someone he really quite fancies who’s happy to curl up with him and read in bed until they gravitate towards each other and both lose their places kissing is actually kind of… maybe this was what he should have wanted in the first place, Mitch too distant a goal.

He can’t stop it spilling out of his mouth - “I really like you. I didn’t expect this but it’s great.”

Dany kisses him, a little shyly, “I like you too, Sasha.”

Alex can’t restrain a properly teenage giggle at that, so pleased by the nickname and the way Dany is affectionately nosing his jaw. He feels weird and delicate and excited, not exactly sated in the way he’s been sometimes after sex with Daniil but lit up, almost nervous energy coursing through him. 

He should do something useful with it, he decides. He’s been consistently crap at reciprocating sex and although Dany hasn’t been complaining and has generally asked for what he wants, Alex really ought to improve on it. Especially if he ever wants to get a chance to fuck him again, which he definitely does.

Alex still doesn’t really know what he’s doing, in terms of moves - he seems to get his own limbs tangled a lot and never quite do anything elegantly. But he should probably attempt something seductive, even if he doesn’t quite have a plan for what he’s doing next. 

He pulls Dany closer to him for a second, moves a hand into his hair to kiss him, feeling how their bodies meld together. Skin-on-skin contact, it turns out, is one of his biggest turn-ons - Dany’s smooth skin pressed against him, the almost ethereally light trail of hair down from his belly button tickling Alex’s stomach. 

Dany makes a pleased sound - he seems to like it when Alex lavishes him with attention, which is slightly unfortunate given Alex still hasn't mastered the art of being turned on and thinking at the same time. The couple of times he has actually pulled himself together and focused have been pretty rewarding, though, Dany responsive and more able to get over any self-consciousness. 

Alex smoothes a hand down Dany's side, tracing his fingers through the dusting of pale hair on his thigh. Dany is ticklish, so he has to be fairly cautious with the way he touches him and it makes it feel more special, something he has to concentrate on. 

Feeling Dany move against him, enjoying the feel of Alex's body, spurs him on. He wants to do something as good for Dany as being inside him felt, however briefly. Alex wants that again, wants Dany to want it. 

He’s well aware it's something people enjoy, thanks to a particularly lurid description of how much Mitch was “a total slut for it” from Richie. It had fuelled his wanks for over a year, imagining filling the Kiwi and making him moan and beg for it the way Richie had described. 

But now he's got a very specific idea of making Dany come, expertly making love to him, pressing them both into the sheets and fucking him tenderly. He knows he's being soppy but he wants it to be elegant, like a perfect corner but without even a hair's breadth between them. 

That's not something he's stupid enough to think he can do right now. He's thinking more along the lines of a blow job delivered with reasonable competence, although he needs to get Dany hard first, which kissing him gently is probably no longer sufficient to do.

“You're so beautiful. Can I touch you?” He means it. He'd thought Dany was an odd sort of skinny, before he'd seen him naked but he's just unusually proportioned, all long limbs and waist and the bone structure of a model. 

Dany nods against him, slightly shy, tucking himself into Alex’s shoulder to affectionately half-hide. This is still all new to them both but Alex likes the trust, the way they ask each other before they do things.

He trails his hand down Dany’s body, over his hip to dip lower, fondling his balls the way Alex has always kind of enjoyed doing to himself. Dany hums and nuzzles closer to him, encouraging Alex to go for his half-hard cock, stroke him to fullness. Dany makes soft, turned-on noises, his breath hot against Alex’s neck and it’s almost mesmerising, giving someone pleasure like this.

He tries to gently maneuver himself out from half-under Dany, thinks better of it before he throws them off the bed or something and rolls him onto his back, Alex straddling the other man. He’s never technically… well, kind of sat on him, frankly, like this before and it’s  _ incredibly  _ sensual, feeling Dany’s hips between his thighs, their cocks tantalisingly close. 

He keeps his focus on Dany, still stroking his dick and kissing him the way they both enjoy, kind of slow and close and tongue-y. Alex shuffles backwards, disappointingly away from his own hand but back between Dany’s legs. It’s a spot that he’s developed a lot of fondness for, in the past few days.

Giving head is fucking difficult and he hasn’t got the hang of it yet, at all. But he’s quite enthusiastic about it, which he hopes kind of covers for any occasional tooth-involvement or gagging. Licking a stripe up Dany’s cock, then taking as much into his mouth as he can, he feels like he’s getting some feel for it at least.

It’s not quite elegant but he can fall into a rhythm easily, making Dany tense and whimper beneath his mouth in what he knows is a good way. He can taste pre-come, arousal rising easily from the false-start earlier and it gives him an idea.

He carries on sucking Dany’s dick, trailing fingers over his balls and to rub that bit that feels surprisingly good, just beneath, then lower to where his skin is still wet and slick with lube. It almost makes Alex gasp around his cock, a filthy reminder that they fucked earlier but he keeps control of himself, looks up at Dany as he dips his fingers lower, playing over his hole. 

The Russian looks nothing apart from affectionate and turned on, eyes half-closed, short hair disarrayed, watching Alex through long eyelashes - “You can - not your dick but you can touch.”

Alex smiles around his cock; he hadn’t expected Dany to go for it but one of the things he really likes about his sort-of-boyfriend-or-whatever is that he’s almost relentlessly brave with himself. He knows he needs to be gentle, careful, having probably pushed Dany beyond his limit earlier. 

He’s so slick, though - opened up by Alex’s fingers and cock and  _ fuck  _ that’s really hot. Oh fuck, he’s going to finger him where his dick’s been, that’s  _ really sexy  _ in a possessive way, as he slides two fingers into Dany with almost no resistance, making him moan as he sucks hard on his dick.

Alex tries to be as gentle and slow as he can, not sure if he should move his fingers or not, pushing them in deeper and hooking them upwards as he carries on sucking Dany’s dick, feeling a bit of burn in his thighs from the strain of the position he’s curled into. It’s beginner’s luck, for sure but he definitely gathers he’s got the right idea when Dany arches slightly and cries out, pushes down on Alex’s fingers, body bucking like he’s surprised by his own motion. 

He tries the same thing again, gets a moan and a sort of bonelessness from Dany, the kind of openness that would’ve been, in retrospect, really fucking convenient for when he was trying to fuck him, if he’d realised it was an option. Alex presses down harder with his mouth, pushes himself and then nearly chokes when his tongue and throat are flooded with spunk, pulling back messily, drooling it everywhere as Daniil shakes and he just about has the presence of mind to withdraw his fingers slowly.

“Oh my god.” Dany is staring at the ceiling, looking quite mindblown - it makes Alex feel impossibly smug even as he’s trying to subtly wipe his mouth and hand on the duvet. Had sex, blown his sort-of-boyfriend-or-whatever’s mind, he’s on  _ fire  _ today. Best sort-of-boyfriend-or-whatever ever.

He crawls up to cuddle with Dany, both of them sweaty and disarrayed and grinning, Dany’s eyes bright, expression open and happy and  _ for Alex.  _ He feels shy and pleased and full of  _ something,  _ excited and happy to snuggle and kiss and touch basically indefinitely. Maybe forever.

\-------

This is a horrible idea. Absolutely everything about all of this has been a horrible idea and it’s now getting worse, at incredible speed - which shouldn’t really surprise Mitch, maybe, given what they all do.

They’ve all gone for coffee, which could really do with being something stronger as he watches Ace’s gaze linger on Dany, their hands entwined on Alex’s lap. This is like something out of his deepest, most insecure nightmares - how the hell has it happened, for fuck’s sake? He’s spent  _ so fucking long  _ trying to seduce Alex and then fucking Rasputin manages it just like that.

Dany and Alex have a glow to them, both looking well and relaxed and -to his massive annoyance-  _ happy.  _ They’re leaning into each other, on their side of the booth and although there’s an element of awkwardness to them, still unfamiliar with being affectionate, it definitely doesn’t look faked, no matter how hard Mitch tries to convince himself it might be.

Ace is wearing a hoodie that  _ cannot  _ be his, too tight across his shoulders in a way that looks annoyingly good. Which is grating, given he’s fairly sure Carlos is also wearing one of Dany’s jumpers, as though the Russian has some sort of appealing wardrobe or sense of style. Carlos is at least curled under Mitch’s arm, which is the wrong way around for their height difference and is making his shoulder hurt but it does feel quite nice to have Carlos’ hands on his thigh. 

They’ve fucked this up so badly. It should have been Alex losing his virginity to Mitch, Carlos and Dany working out clumsy hand jobs between them.  _ How  _ have they screwed everything up so spectacularly? And now Ace is eating the cream off the top of Dany’s hot chocolate and getting called Sasha and like, for fuck’s sake, nicknames for Alex are  _ Mitch’s thing.  _

He very deliberately strokes Carlos’ hair, tangling it in his fingers and tugging slightly - this is foolhardy, they’re in public, they can’t all be doing this. Like, they really can’t - this could fuck everything up for all of them, as well as being totally fucked in the first place.

He can’t stop himself huffing, annoyed by literally everything about this, especially himself “Do you want to come back to mine?”

Carlos shifts against him, looking up at him with those ludicrously huge eyes and Mitch nearly has to catch his breath for a second. He wonders if it’s turning Dany’s stomach to see Carlos look at Mitch that way, as much as every stroke of Ace’s thumb over Dany’s hand is twisting his own guts.

Alex catches his meaning, that they should stop exposing themselves like this in public - the four of them are just recognisable enough, as an ensemble. “Mine’s closer” - Dany looks like he’s going to interject, for a second - “And the heating actually works.”

Mitch has the horrible weight in his chest that is Knowing They’re Going To Need To Talk About Things really soon. Fuck, he’d had no idea Ace fancied men - maybe he only fancies really weird looking Russians? Maybe Alex is actually totally fucking insane? That would explain a lot, really.

“Yeah, ok. Yours. We should get the fuck out of here.”  His voice comes out quieter and hoarser than he was expecting, trying to keep his tone light and casual and unbothered. Carlos hugs him close for a second, giving him the Disney look again and Mitch has a moment of actual madness and kisses him tenderly on the nose. Fuck, he’s gone as crazy as the rest of them.

Extricating themselves from the coffee shop involves a lot of coat-recovery and glove-fumbling; it’s a grim, down-to-the-bones day of freezing damp in Milton Keynes and the heart-dropping emotions aren’t making them any more coordinated. 

Mitch isn’t sure what he wants, exactly. What he wants to say. He kind of just wants a time machine so they can go back and do this all right, except that’s too dismissive of how much he’s enjoyed being with Carlos. He had been getting over it, getting into being the big spoon, kissing Carlos’ neck, making him fall apart with Mitch’s dick inside him and  _ definitely _ cry out Mitch’s name. And the cute stuff, like the way they fight over computer games and get competitive in the gym and Carlos laughs really easily and honestly, trusts Mitch with anything.

They’re so fucked. So fucked. Ace gives him a weird little smile as he’s tugging his coat on, which looks massively too cheery for what’s about to happen, which seems almost certain to be The Most Embarrassing And Awkward Conversation Mitch Has Ever Had. The kind of personal best no one is interested in.

Daniil and Alex are definitely sharing some kind of moderately excited, meaningful look while they’re apparently not giving a shit about holding hands in the street. Whatever, guys, sabotage your own F1 chances. But if they could do it without stamping on Mitch’s heart, that would be ideal.

Carlos walks too close to him, bumping shoulders and giving him unbearably cute looks, which is… has everyone else somehow missed that everything’s completely fucked? 

He broods for about half the distance to Lex’s flat, until it’s clear that he’s freaking the other three out. Which is freaking _ him _ out, frankly - what’s good about this? They’ve ended up with the wrong people but  _ too much so  _ to sort it out sensibly. It’s not like he can ask Daniil if he’d mind terribly if Alex could just fuck Mitch until he can’t stand up and maybe he could  have a go on Carlos in return? 

And he likes Carlos, Dany can’t take that, too. He’s feeling enormously, irrationally resentful of the Russian - fuck’s sake, the guy is awkward central and yet somehow,  _ somehow  _ everyone Mitch wants to fall in love with  _ him  _ is mooning over the bastard. 

“Is this going to be weird? It’s going to be weird.” Oh christ, stop talking Evans. 

The other three look at him with nearly identical puzzled looks, Alex far too patiently kind in asking “Why would it be weird?”

“Because…” Mitch can’t say it on the street. He probably can’t say it ever. It’s too awful. “Because we’re sort of… fucking each other?”

Dany laughs, “Yeah we kind of got that from your Snapchat?”

That’s not what Mitch means and he can vaguely see some sort of dim awareness forming in Carlos’ face - he really is stunningly pretty but not massively bright, sometimes. “I mean. Err.”

Good, that’s great, he’s with the fucking EFL crew and Alex ‘stutters about emotions’ Lynn and somehow he’s the one babbling incoherently, Carlos grabbing at him reassuringly as Mitch attempts to fight down a panic attack on the pavement outside Lex’s flat. Fucking expert at relationships, here.

“Is ok, you weirdo.” And really Carlos has absolutely no right to call him that but Mitch is the one currently making everything awful, so like maybe. Sure. 

Ace gives him a horribly scrutinising look before pushing the door open and letting them all file inside, giving Mitch’s shoulder a slightly patronising squeeze as he goes past. Fucking hell.

They settle in Alex’s lounge, pulling coats off unceremoniously in a way he knows is probably making Ace twitch because he likes them hung up, until they’re sitting across from each other like a couples’ counselling session, Carlos cuddled up to Mitch and Ace pressing a socked foot against Dany’s, holding hands again. 

Daniil and Alex look annoyingly good together, all long limbs and cheekbones and now they’re on home turf they look completely comfortable with each other, like they use that sofa for cuddling regularly. Appalling. He needs to stop staring. 

Carlos has a calculatingly intense look on his face, wriggling around to make Mitch shift until he’s lying back on the arm and Carlos can lean against him, almost sprawled on his chest. “Oof - Chili, careful where you’re putting your elbows.”

This makes Alex and Dany laugh uproariously, sharing some kind of inside joke apparently. They had better not have some weird fucking thing going on about Carlos crushing Mitch’s balls, that’s too fucking strange. And not funny. 

Carlos just nestles into him harder, presses a soft kiss on his chest, “I  _ am  _ careful. Now we’ll have fun.”

Mitch is so baffled by that second bit that he’s halfway through asking what the fuck Carlos is talking about when the Spaniard narrows his eyes, looks across at the others and says “Kiss.”

Dany blushes, Alex splutters a bit, manages “What?”

“I want to see you kiss.” Carlos sounds quietly determined and Mitch is fucking  _ floored,  _ if he wasn’t already on the sofa and - in retrospect - cunningly pinned down. 

Alex splutters a bit more, looking at Dany. Who shrugs, fighting the blush down and pulling Alex towards himself, gently tugging on that blatantly borrowed hoodie as he leans in. Mitch makes an actual noise of fear as Ace closes his eyes, ducks to meet Dany’s lips and they’re fucking  _ kissing.  _ It’s obscene. 

Carlos snuggles onto him closely, stroking at his arm in a calming sort of way but Mitch is fairly sure nothing would have an effect to stop the way his heart is thumping in his chest that his boyfriend just made their fucked up crushes kiss on command and everything is going a different sort of awkward to the way he’d assumed it would and. He needs not to hyperventilate.

But Dany is kissing Ace, their mouths meeting softly, with the familiarity of people who’ve worked it out, smiling against each other. Alex is a closet show off, so Mitch isn’t at all surprised that he pulls Dany closer, tilts his head to slip his tongue into the Russian’s mouth, slow and sensual. Oh christ, they’ve fucked. They’ve totally actually fucked. 

Mitch wants to cry. If Dany’s got his dick in Alex before Mitch got that fucking giant dick in him he’s just, like, over as a human being that has sex. He looks down at Carlos, who’s looking at him eagerly, apparently completely pleased with himself.  “Hot.”

Mitch can’t help himself, “What?”

“They look hot.” Carlos says it as though Mitch may be slightly slow. Maybe he is, because that’s a fucking insane statement.

Well, they  _ do  _ look hot, Ace smirking against Dany’s mouth - he clearly heard Carlos - and bringing them even closer together, fisting a hand in the front of Dany’s jumper. They look hot and intense and like they really want each other, Dany’s fingers in Lex’s hair and they’re barely coming up for air. 

“But. They’re.” Mitch is flailing, verbally and slightly physically, waving a hand to express his displeasure at the scene in front of him, “They’re who we fucking fancy, Carlos.”

He refuses to look over at Alex and Daniil, even though he saw in his peripherary that they blatantly heard him, sprang apart slightly. Carlos looks a little hurt, “Well, I fancy you too.”

Oh god. He forgets Carlos is quite insecure, hates that he’s the cause of the slightly lost look and the way he’s curling in on himself, against Mitch, “No, no - I  _ really  _ fancy you too, it’s just they’re… who we were hung up on.”

He strokes Carlos back, up to play through the hair at the base of his skull, coax him a little further up Mitch’s body until he can make their mouths meet, as tender and loving as he can possibly make it. 

God, he loves Carlos - has done for years, as a friend and the complicated, nascent feelings they have for each other beyond that fit comfortably to them. Mitch wants to ...take him on fancy dates, even though Carlos is vastly more fancy than he is in the first place but he does want to  _ romance  _ him, treat him well.

Mitch likes giving, especially pleasure and Carlos is so responsive, so happy to be lavished with all the affectionate attention Mitch can muster. Ace is a little standoffish, by comparison - Mitch knows he wouldn’t want to be fussed over, wouldn’t respond well to Mitch being constantly in his face the way he can be with Carlos.

“You’re hot too.” It’s Dany that speaks, Alex making a noise of agreement. 

Mitch noses the kiss to an end, strokes Carlos’s back again as he turns to the other two, Dany looking slightly breathless and Alex looking, essentially, thunderously angry.

“Are you fucking-” oh god, Ace has a temper sometimes but this is more like he’s about to burst into tears “-telling me that you have fancied me for ages, Mitch Evans?”

Everyone is looking at him, which feels unfair. “Yes! But I knew you weren’t going for it and I can see I’m not your type, so-”

“I have been fucking  _ dying  _ over you for  _ fucking years,  _ Mitch. Jesus christ.” Alex is breathing hard, like he’s just been running, “When you fucking Snapchatted your bloody date I thought I was going to need heart surgery. And you’re fucking telling me  _ now? _ ”

Mitch’s heart feels like it’s stopped. What the fuck.

No one speaks for a good minute and a half. Then Carlos sighs in an intense sort of way, pushes himself up off of Mitch and crosses to the other sofa. Mitch expects him to go to Dany, collect the Russian and leave him and Alex in pieces. 

But Carlos goes to Alex, instead. Pushes his way onto Ace’s lap in what’s definitely a repeat of the way he’d curled onto Mitch in the club the first time they’d fooled around but this is different because Mitch is here and Dany is sitting next to Lex and  _ surely  _ Carlos is not about to kiss him?

Mitch and Daniil make near-identical pained noises when he does. Mitch feels like he’s going to die - how he fuck is he suddenly the only person in the room who  _ hasn’t  _ stuck his tongue down Alex Lynn’s throat?

“What the fuck?” Carlos looks over at him, twisting in Alex’s lap and he looks surprisingly confident, the slightly regal air he gets sometimes in between dicking about, the ‘my dad’s a world champion and I grew up with people being weirdly reverent to me’ face.

“Come over here.” Mitch doesn’t want to. Surely Carlos is not going to make him snog Daniil? But anything seems possible, at this point, with things as fucked up as they are. Also his body is not responding to his commands and he nearly walks into the coffee table with the speed with which he moves across.

Carlos gets up from Alex’s lap, takes Mitch’s hand and kisses him sweetly, turning it hot by pressing them together, so close he’s half-grinding against Mitch for a second. There’s unbearable tension in the room now, Carlos somehow become the controller of the situation and Mitch is just along for the sexy ride, making a quietly pathetic noise into his mouth.

Carlos pulls back, gives Mitch a slightly shy smile and steps around him, pushing Mitch towards Alex, looking as determined as Mitch feels lost. “Do it.”

Mitch wants to ask what ‘it’ is because he’s suddenly feeling a bit out of his depth for getting fucked by Alex over the couch - which is a fucking blindsider and a half. But then Ace is brushing a kiss over Dany’s lips, their hands entwining at the same time he’s pulling Mitch down into his lap, letting him stumble into straddling him.

Carlos is behind, brushing kisses over Mitch’s neck and he’s staring at Ace and he’s completely off-kilter, feeling like he’s falling. Carlos’ mouth feels so nice, so reassuring and worshipful and Alex’s thighs are between his, muscle against muscle through their jeans - Mitch is totally overwhelmed, glancing over to Dany for… permission or something?

Which he doesn’t get a chance to take, Daniil curling around Alex as he sits up slightly, draws Mitch closer and whispers “Oh god” just before their mouths meet.

It’s kind of everything Mitch has wanted, all at once. And so much sweeter and fifteen million times weirder than he’s ever imagined it - his fantasies have always been Lex grabbing him roughly, shoving him against a wall, dragging him off a shared podium to fuck in the cool-down room, desperate and urgent. 

He’d never, ever thought about feeling like he’s burning out of his skin, barely able to keep himself stable on Alex’s lap, gripping Ace’s shoulders like he’s falling and only propped up by Carlos cuddling up to him behind, a semi rubbing against Mitch’s back. 

Alex’s lips on his are gentle, asking for permission and letting him in. He’s so preoccupied with Carlos’s hands on him, though, stroking and touching everywhere he knows lights Mitch up, from the the sides of his waist to his inner arm, kissing his neck a few last times as he sinks deeper into Alex’s mouth. He feels consumed by them, in the best way.

He surprises himself by feeling glad when Carlos moves, shifting to kneel up in front of Daniil, a hand still on Mitch’s waist. Alex tenderly pulls back, coming up for air and looking straight into Mitch’s eyes again with nothing but blissed-out wonder before turning to look at the other two.

They look nervously excited, Dany throwing Alex a questioning look before he commits to leaning forwards. How did those two get so involved so fast? It’s genuinely impressive, hearing Ace’s slight gasp as Daniil kisses Carlos, a little more heat to it than between he and Alex, as though they’re slowly escalating each other. 

Carlos looks beautiful, melting against Dany with a soft whimper as his hand grips hard on Mitch’s waist. Dany is beautiful, too - in such a starkly different way, pale skin against Carlos’ tan, spikes of blonde in sharp contrast to soft, black strands. He sees the moment Dany licks into Carlos’ mouth, the way they both flinch slightly, electrified, another soft, expressive sound from the Spaniard as his hand moves to Mitch’s arse and he nearly really does fall of Alex, if the taller man hadn’t tightened his grip.

“Please,” Carlos has pulled back, breathless and Mitch knows immediately what he means. He sees Daniil look completely terrified for a second before Mitch semi-lunges, grabs him and turns every bit of seething resentment he’d been nursing earlier into passion as he kisses him so hard their teeth nearly clash.

This is, definitely, ridiculous. Carlos is undoing his belt as he tries not to fall on the floor while gripping Dany, their tongues deep in each other’s mouths and he feels Ace moving, holding Mitch onto his lap as he reaches for Carlos. Mitch tries to feel less drunk but he’s kissing  _ Dany  _ of all people and Carlos is working a hand into his pants and Ace underneath him feels so  _ good  _ between his legs.

“We’re all ok?” Alex tugs on Mitch’s hair to stop them kissing, get an answer. Mitch tries to breathe.

“Yes, god. Yeah.” He’s really showcasing how articulate he is today. 

Dany looks slightly like he’s in shock but nods, leaning over to kiss Alex, reassuring as Carlos hums against Mitch’s shoulder, bites his neck and gets his fingers around Mitch’s cock. 

He knows he can be quite vocal, it’s partly why he likes that Carlos is as well but the noise he makes is ridiculous, broken and choked and full of heat from the first few jerks of his dick. It makes Carlos growl happily against his back, Alex look up from kissing Dany and mumble “fucking hell, Mitch” as Daniil’s fingers dive for Ace’s flies.

Their confidence is kind of surprising, kind of not - they’re all racers, after all, all daring and determined. And maybe lack of experience means they’re less worried than he could be - you always think you’re too smart to have a shunt before it happens. 

At the end of the day, he doesn’t care too much what it is that’s got this into their heads, as Alex’s fingers stroke his thigh, Carlos’ hand on his dick just the way he likes - firm grip, thumb on the head - and Dany’s got Alex’s belt open, shoving down his jeans and boxers.

Mitch turns suddenly shy, as he gets Ace’s dick out, has to kiss Alex to distract him. These things aren’t suposed to happen in public - which this isn’t, Carlos pushing him forwards as Ace spreads his legs to slide Mitch closer, let Carlos follow behind him.

There’s a second where he stops kissing Alex and they’re all just extremely close to each other where he thinks it might end, that they’ll all realise they’ve gone insane and just call themselves cabs home and never speak about this ever, ever again. That’s not the way it goes.

He doesn’t know about Alex and Dany but can make an educated guess: something about everything about all of this has just worked, like forces beyond their control are making them behave like  _ fucking lunatics  _ this whole time. 

From the moment he’d first curled up with Alex, let Ace pull him close against his body and mouth at Mitch’s ear - something he’d worked  _ so hard  _ to convince himself was purely platonic, to break his own heart over, this has been mad. And as addictive as the adrenaline from racing. 

Gravitating to Carlos, telling each other the horrible details of their terrible lust for Lex and Daniil, every boner they’d sprung hugging after races, every lonely sad wank they’d frantically knocked out in desperation - that wasn’t a normal thing. And using each other as a confused, last-ditch, flailing effort to feel good about wanting the other two was just as weird. 

He couldn’t have won GP3 with this in his head, with this swirl of emotions instead of the base satisfaction of getting fucked by Richie. With trying to work out what the fuck he feels about anything anymore, other than  _ fuck yes  _ about the way Dany and Carlos have entwined their hands round his and Alex’s dicks.

Dany and Lex getting their shit together was unexpected but they are the slightly smarter ones. Everything about it has been hurting Mitch for so long, like a wound that’s never healed, like the infection his fucking body has been nursing and now they’re burning it out of each other, treating sickness with madness.

And maybe it’s not a surprise that in a town made of fucking roundabouts they just had to go in a few pointless circles before they could get anywhere? Whatever, he’s getting vastly too philosophical for having his dick against Alex’s - hot, swollen skin pressed together by Carlos and Dany’s hands.

He can feel Carlos using his free hand to jack himself, against Mitch’s arse - Alex is touching Dany and he doesn’t have to try hard to shamelessly grid between them all, making Carlos whine and push up against him.

It sets off a chain reaction - the whole thing is a chain reaction, a circuit of hands and open mouths pushed almost blindly against flesh until Mitch isn’t totally sure who he’s panting on when he feels himself come, spunk spilling over Alex’s cock and Dany and Carlos’ hands and it’s  _ perfect. _

\------

Carlos feels like he’s choking, like he’s burning out of his skin and he’s going to snap his own spine arching his back, collapsed face first on Mitch’s bed, Alex fucking him while Dany’s fingers stroke through the hair that’s flopped over his face. 

He’s well aware he’s mumbling in Spanish and drenched in sweat, beyond a mess because the other two are right, Alex is massive and he’s not completely sure he wants it regularly but it’s a  _ lot  _ of sensation. Especially while Mitch is sprawling next to him, spattered in come and whispering to Carlos how good he is, how close Alex looks, how Mitch knew he’d love fucking him. 

He can’t stop himself grabbing his own dick, frantically jerking himself as Alex’s thrusts turn so erratic, so intense that the sensation is almost overwhelming. Carlos whines, pants, moans as he feels Alex collapse on top of him and then his own shaking thighs give way until they’re a tangle of sheets and sticky, sweat-slick human that’s barely indistinguishable, unable to tell whether it’s his or Alex’s breathing that’s like a rushing noise in his ears.

Mitch digs him out, in the end. Or well, pulls Alex off him, rearranges them into a more recognisable position. Carlos tries not to purr with the combined come-down and turn-on that is Alex spooning him while he watches Dany trail a finger through the come on Mitch’s stomach, licks some of it off himself and then presses it to the smaller man’s enthusiastic lips.

He hates feeling insecure, even though he knows he has a tendency to, which makes him even more insecure about feeling insecure and the whole thing becomes a terrible anxiety loop from which it’s almost impossible to rescure himself, stuck in the pit lane limiter of the mind. 

But somehow, in their recently-reinforced-or-broken beds, in their shitty flats, between sweaty bodies, he’s got somewhere weird and messed up enough to never make him feel that way. Being who they are, they were never going to settle for the normal amount of anything. 

He burrows under Alex’s arm, feels Mitch cuddle up against his front, Daniil behind him and just for a second, doesn’t have any other ambitions.

 


End file.
